Feel Again
by Tadpole24
Summary: He barely waits the five minutes before making his way back to camp... Captain Swan aftermath of you know what. 3x05 spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

_You all knew this was coming._

_Based on the sneak peek we got today. If you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled, run away (but come back after the episode and give this a go)._

_Disclaimer: Every episode would contain a CS kiss if I had any ownership of this show._

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Feel Again

:::

"_I'm feeling better since you've known me,  
I was a lonely soul, but that's the old me."  
-OneRepublic_

:::

He barely waits the five minutes before making his way back to camp. They're all there, smiles on their faces, making a fuss over David being okay and preparing food for the night. He drops the small pile of firewood, causing them all to look up from their self-appointed duties and making him regret making the noise.

"Hook," it's Snow's voice that reaches him first, "Thank you. Thank you so much." She bustles forward giving the pirate a tentative hug, still unsure of his allegiance, but grateful for his knowledge of Neverland foliage, "You've kept our family whole," she says, pulling away and reaching behind her for the makeshift cups they'd fashioned out of hollowed wood, "I propose a toast."

He's not used to having the attention on him, not used to being hailed a hero and it makes him nervous. But as Snow White toasts, "To Hook," he looks over the camp and sees Emma smirking at him and feels a little more as ease. He tips the cup against his lips and downs the fruit juice they've made for the occasion, something a little more decadent than water, but not as comforting as his rum.

They all go about their business once more after that, the pirate helping get the fire started and relishing in not having all the attention his way. He's not opposed when Emma joins him though, "Hey, thought you could use a real toast," she says quietly, passing him the flask he usually carries on his belt.

He doesn't even question it, just smiles and takes it from her hand, knowing full well when she must have swiped it from him, "You really could be an excellent pirate."

She grins and ducks her head at what she now sees is his highest form of a compliment, "Never gonna happen, Captain." She uses his shoulder to lean on as she gets back up and makes her way back to her parents as he takes a generous swig from the flask which still has that lingering taste of _her_ on its rim.

:::

They're supposed to be sleeping, but he's fairly certain she's keeping the whole camp awake with her tossing and turning. He can hear the mumbled whispers of Charming and Snow trying to decide who should get up and go see what's wrong, feel Tink's nervous energy sparking over to his left and see the exasperated look on Regina's face even with her eyes shut. In the end Emma just stands up, declares, "I can hear you, you know," and walks off towards the edge of the camp.

Regina's face settles into a smirk and while the royal couple still bicker over who should be the comforter, Hook stands himself and follows her, leaving the others in a shocked kind of silence.

It doesn't take long for him to find her, her exhausted body sitting on a fallen tree, head in her hands, "Go away, Hook."

He raises his hands in defence as she looks up at him. "Just here to talk if you need to," he says, taking a seat next to her.

Despite his insistence, they remain silent for a long while before she feels the desire to speak, "I heard Henry."

He frowns, "In the cries?"

She nods, biting her lip, physically trying to bite back her own tears, "He thinks I've abandoned him. He thinks I've left him to this god forsaken island." A rogue tear escapes and rolls down her cheek before he swipes at it with his thumb.

Her eyes meet his briefly and he pulls back his hand. He offers no apology though and she appreciates that.

"I spent my childhood wondering if my parents would ever come find me, if they even tried and I've just put Henry in the same situation."

"Hey," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Pan plays dirty mind games, but the reality of the situation is that you've come here to find your son. You haven't abandoned him. And he will see that when he sees you."

She leans into his side, taking the comfort he offers. When she feels his lips pressing against her hair she turns her head up to look at him, takes his face gently in her hands and lets her trembling lips fall on his. He remains very still, scared that if he moves, she will end this perfect moment, but contrary to his concern, she deepens the kiss, tilting her head slightly and opening up to him.

He takes the opportunity and gently sweeps his tongue in to taste her, loving the way her body arches into his, reacting to his every touch, his every insistence.

And this time, when it's over and their foreheads are touching as they come down from the sheer emotion of it all, she lets him leave one last peck on her lips. She lets him follow closely behind her as they walk back to camp and she lets him lay down next to her, curling an arm around her waist as she finally, _finally_ slips into sleep.

:::

It actually physically hurts him to see her with _Neal_. The boy who was once his only family has left that man and instead a broken person stands before them all every day, trying to get Henry home, trying to save _his family_.

And that's what makes his heart ache, he thinks. That this other man could potentially just walk in and take something from him based purely on the past.

Yes, they could be a family, yes they have the blood ties and a son together and she's born of true love and he's the Dark One's son. But gods be damned, she's the first person in an exceptionally long while who has made him _feel_ something. And he's not ready to give that up.

She comes and finds him later, when everyone else is sitting around the campfire discussing the next day. He's pacing, his flask of rum in his hand, not yet feeling the need to drink himself into oblivion, but allowing one or two nips to take the edge off.

His steps stop abruptly when she appears through the leaves and into the little clearing, and he actually considers simply walking back to camp and not dealing with this right now. Because they have her son to find and that's more important than his heart.

But he's unable to back down from a challenge, and when she says, "You need to tell me what's going on with you," he meets her halfway, standing over her, peering into her eyes, daring her to see it.

"I can't stand watching you with him."

She seems affronted by his selfishness, "He's helping find Henry, he's on our side. I'm allowed to talk to him."

He scrunches up his nose in disgust, "But talking to him comes at the expense of talking to me and I have bloody feelings for you, Emma. It hurts me to see you confiding in him when I'm here."

She takes a step back from him, her mouth involuntarily hanging open. She hadn't realised… She knows he'd been flirty and she'd been receptive and they'd comforted each other when they needed it, and sure, she felt something.

But she didn't know he felt it too. That it went deeper than a desire to bed her.

It's too much.

Far too much.

With her son still out there, her ex mere feet away from them and the pirate's blue eyes looking at her like she holds all the answers, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

His hooked arm reaches around to catch her before she walks away and she realises that she doesn't remember him stepping back in to meet her. She stumbles forward, her hands bracing on his chest as they continue to meet each other's gaze. "Well now you do," he says quietly, his voice deep and dripping with desire.

Before she can say another thing, he captures her lips in yet another searing kiss and she begins to see that this is going to be something she can't live without.

His hook travels further south, sitting under the curve of her ass, his hand soon joining it and lifting until her legs wrap around him and he can push her up against a nearby tree. With her stable, he allows his hand to wander, trailing up her side, his thumb grazing over her breast as his lips find their way along her jaw, to the point where her neck and shoulder meet. It's there, as she moans and pushes her hips forward that he bites down. Because he wants her to be marked, he wants people to know about them, even if they can't figure out what they hell they're doing, he wants Neal to see that they're working it out and it's not his place to try and take her.

And he knows he has no right to claim her either, that she'll make the choices she wishes to make on her own, but the feelings coursing through him right now are primal and uncontrollable. He wants to kiss her until her lips remember only him and want only him.

They hear David's voice calling through the passionate haze around them and with a reluctant sigh he allows her legs to drop from around him. Her lips are red and swollen and he hangs his head at his lack of restraint, pulling tendrils of her hair over the bruise already forming on her neck.

She silently sidesteps him and heads back to the campsite, her body and her emotions a right mess.

But despite it all, when she hears him walking behind her and smiles to herself. It's quite possible she hasn't felt this alive in years.

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_Thoughts? Feelings? Should I continue? Let me know! _


	2. Chapter 2

_As if I could ever deny you guys what you wished for. And so many of you wished for it (words cannot express how big my THANK YOU is)._

_I bring to you, chapter two of I'm not sure how many yet. But that's half the fun ;)_

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Feel Again

Two

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It's a few days later when they finally get a chance to settle and make a camp again, their time on the island becoming slowly more dangerous as they circle Pan's hideout, waiting for the right moment to strike. Killian sets Tinker Belle down on the hastily made bed of leaves, her fingers clutching at her stomach where a steady flow of blood is oozing from beneath the crude bandage they'd tried to apply to her wound.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice strangely deep compared to the usual frequency, "I'm so sorry."

And they're all there, crowded around her, whispering back that it's okay, that she shouldn't apologise for her actions. She had been fending off attacks from the Lost Boys when they had discovered that she was working with their enemies, but she just wasn't quick enough for one blade, and while her instincts told her to fly, her body, very abruptly reminded her that she was without magic when the sharp metal pierced her skin.

She whimpers as Killian works at the dressing, pulling a cloth square from his pocket. When Emma sees the monogramed edge her breath catches in her throat at yet another token of sentiment the pirate carries with him. He cleans the wound as best he can, before applying the handkerchief over the blood.

As her petite body whimpers and trembles, they all look to Regina once more. She rolls her eyes, exasperated and wanting just to spend some time with the woman she used to call a friend, before holding her hands out. Tiny sparks fly from her fingertips, but nothing compared to what they're used to, "I told you, my magic works differently here. It can be drained." They had fought hard against the Lost Boys and the toll that has taken is apparent across all of them, "I can heal her, just give it time."

Tinker Belle reaches out to Regina, meeting her halfway as the queen lowers into a crouch by the fairy's side, "It's okay, Regina. I believe in you."

It becomes clear that the two need to mend old bridges and the rest of the group disperses to set up the camp properly.

Emma tries to go with her parents, but their eternal optimism and constant state of apology over her childhood is something she can only take so much of and she remembers what Killian had said to her about talking with Neal when she could be talking with him, so within a few minutes she finds herself wandering over to the side of the camp occupied by the pirate.

She doesn't say anything at first, just picks up the other end of the log he's trying to move and helps him. They drop it down, creating a sort of perimeter to their area and Emma turns around to go grab another, but the pirate stops her, calling out softly, "Thank you, lass."

She nods, smiling tightly, "Just helping."

But his hook wraps around her wrist more firmly, pulling her closer, "No really. Thank you." His eyes slide over to Neal, who is pulling rations from a bag, separating them into small piles, "I know I was harsh," he pauses, "Insistent," he amends, "But I want for nothing but your happiness."

She still can't get used to the sincerity in his eyes, "My happiness will be when Henry is safe."

"Of course," he says, moving fractionally closer and sweeping her hair back from her shoulder to reveal a still healing bruise. "I apologise for the rash behaviour which caused this."

She hisses as his fingers pass over it, but instinctually moves closer to the soft breaths he's blowing out, cooling the tender skin, "You weren't completely to blame, Hook."

He smiles at the memory, moving her hair back into place, "No. I suppose I wasn't."

Remembering where they are, she steps out of his personal space, hurrying to change the subject, "So I thought you said you weren't sentimental?"

She shoots a look over towards Tinker Belle and the pirate immediately knows exactly what she's talking about, "You're a sharp lass. I thought I could get that one by you."

She smiles, picking up the end of another log, waiting for him to help her, "Nothing gets by me."

He happily picks up the other end and they walk again towards the camp, "It was my brother's. Not the last thing of his that I have, but certainly one of the only things I can carry with me at all times."

"You were close?" she asks, genuinely curious about this pirate who seems to have given so much despite his looting ways of crime.

"The closest."

She doesn't get the chance to ask much more after that because Neal is there with their food. But she's finding out more and more that perhaps she would like to know the pirate a little better.

:::

The soft green glow wakes them all in the late hours of the evening, when the moon hasn't completely risen and it's dark beyond dark. Tinker Belle's whimpering is soft, but as it's the only sound in the jungle, it seems much louder.

Charming's the first to come to his awareness and call out over the sounds of pain coming from the fairy, "What's going on over there?"

Regina looks up from the glow, the light faltering as she loses concentration, "My magic has enough energy to heal her. I didn't want to wait."

There are a few murmurs of agreement around the camp, everyone still in the cloud of sleep. Emma rolls back over, planning on falling straight back into slumber, but something catches her attention before she can get away that easy and before she knows it, she's lying on her back, staring at the dark sky, trying to think of anything but the sounds of the Lost Boys crying their hearts out.

She doesn't remember falling asleep tonight, only that they were all by the camp fire earlier and she had felt completely exhausted from the day's events. She must have fallen asleep before the crying caught up to her, must have missed it. It's a guilty feeling that plagues her at the thought of being selfish enough to sleep while Henry is out there wishing for his family, but she knows that she needs rest to be able to fight for him, to get her son back.

Her eyes travel the camp, watching in wonder her parents who already seem to have passed out asleep in the mere minutes since waking up. She looks curiously at Neal, whose soft snores can barely be heard beneath the sounds of children crying, and wonders how long he must have been on the island for him to be able to drown it out, to drown out the sound of his own son calling for them. Calling for his faith in his family not to be questioned.

After skirting past Regina and Tink, her eyes finally land on the one person she's been most scared to look at. Killian.

And her fears are confirmed when she meets his eyes and he's already looking directly at her.

His brow creases in a slight frown, his head nodding towards her, asking if she's doing okay. She nods and he raises his eyebrows at her.

Conceding a slight defeat, because he really does read her like an open book, she gently shakes her head, pointing a finger to her ear, indicating that she can hardly bear the sounds of sorrow permeating the air.

His movements are swift enough that she can't stop him, but smooth enough that no one else rouses from their sleep. He slides across the leaves and dirt to come to rest beside her, "You alright, love?"

She doesn't trust herself to speak, not with him so close, so warm, so genuine. Her hand reaches out to take his, smiling when he instinctively wraps his fingers around hers. She rolls over, his hand still tucked in hers, in effect pulling his arm across her waist. It's her own silent form of communication. Her way of telling him to stay with her, so hold her tight and not let go because she's trying her very hardest not to run either.

With his thumb rubbing soothing circles against her wrist and his arm laid out under her head like a pillow, she finally succumbs to sleep, the soothing whisper of his breath across her ear distracting her from the sounds of sadness

Words cannot express the strange mixture of feelings she gets the next morning when his body is no longer tucked next to hers, having moved before anyone could wake.

It's a sense of deep disappointment at the loss of contact and ecstatic relief at not having to face everyone this morning with explanations.

But she's beginning to find that for every fibre of her being that doesn't want to be found out, there's an equal part of her begging to be caught, wanting the world to know that she and the pirate are something. Neither of them know what, exactly. But something.

That day, as the heat of Neverland creeps across their camp, Emma finally yields to it and pulls her hair up into a ponytail, trying to keep it off her neck, almost begging for someone to ask her about the bruise that lays there.

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	3. Chapter 3

_I am still being overwhelmed by your response! Thank you all so much!_

_This took a bit of an angsty turn, but there is a plan and it'll all be rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers down the road ;)_

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Feel Again

Three

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It's not like it could ever be simple and she could just turn off her feelings for Neal. Because there's still a part of her, she's willing to admit a very small part, that still loves him. It's that same part of her that feels lost and lonely on this island, the part of herself still encased in a wall so high and so deep that she doubts anyone will break through.

And that scares her.

Because she wants to be free of these feelings, she wants Neal out of her system, she needs the closure, for the hurt to go away. So she tries to start small.

The sword is still slung over her shoulders when she approaches her ex, but she smoothly swings it around to the front of her and off her arm in one movement. "Hey," she says quietly, "Reckon we could have a moment?"

He nods tersely, walking ahead of her into a small clearing close to the camp, but far away enough that they have a little privacy.

She knows he's been feeling somewhat hurt due to her not jumping into his arms when they first reunited and she's probably only made it worse by her more frequent slip ups around Killian of late, but she tries not to think about that as she holds out his sword as a kind of peace offering. "I thought you might like this back."

He looks at the sword curiously, tilting his head as he examines the old markings on it, his crudely engraved initials on the hilt, "Is that…?"

"Yeah. Killian gave it to me when we first got here."

Neal's eyes dart from the sword to her in an instant, searching her for something. She's unsure what, but sees something hurting beyond the surface, "You keep it."

She frowns, uncertain what has gone so wrong in what should be such a simple exchange, "Oh, okay. I just thought…"

But he cuts her off, "Well your instincts must be as off as your 'lie detector' because you were wrong."

And that needlessly rubs her the wrong way. She slings the sword back over her shoulder, the intent to keep it clear, "I was just trying to mend some bridges here, Neal. We need to work together if we're going to get our son back."

He's already walking off by then though, shooting a look over his shoulder, "Well maybe you should talk to your dear _Killian_ about that."

It's only in that moment that Neal reveals his hand, that his anger is built upon pure jealousy, but he storms off before Emma can even have a chance to explain her situation, leaving her alone with a sword that just keeps reminding her of the past.

:::

She doesn't really get angry about everything that's happened that day until much later in the evening. The day time brings with it duties and a busy sort of urgency to get as much done before night strikes again so she doesn't really have a moment to mull over Neal's actions until they've finished up dinner and are getting ready to sleep.

Killian intercepts Emma on the way back from using their 'bathroom', the two of them remaining hidden behind the line of trees on the outskirts of the camp.

"Swan," he beckons, softly.

She turns her head and sees him sitting in the shadows, leg perched on a boulder, his dark leather shining in the moonlight. She really cannot get used to the way her breathing halts when he shocks her with his presence, "What are you doing over here?"

Everyone else is milling about the campsite, setting up their makeshift beds, "Waiting for you."

She cocks her head at him, breathing a heavy sigh, "Hook, listen…"

But he cuts her off, "Emma, while I am appreciative that we've put ourselves in a complicated situation of intimacy, I wish to discuss a matter with you that seems to be entirely uncomplicated to me."

"And that is?" she asks, genuinely curious about how this pirate keeps surprising her.

He stands up, stepping the short distance to her and tilting her chin up with his hook, "You're upset. Why?"

She closes her eyes, just for a moment, to get her bearings. Because his stare is so intense and so pure that it makes her head spin. How could he possibly know? She thought she had been covering it so well.

"It's actually more complicated than you think," she eventually says, finally opening her eyes.

"Neal?" he questions, again cutting deep through any barrier she could even attempt to put up.

Deciding to give him something for making it this far with her, she tells him a little of what's been on her mind, "He hurt me a long time ago and now it feels like no time has passed. Like the part of me that healed has just been ripped open again."

"And it's as though he's gotten away with it purely because there has been a great amount of time between when he wronged you and now?" he finishes for her, questioning eyes meeting hers once more before she looks away sharply, swinging her neck down and accidentally cutting her chin against the point of his hook. "Swan!" he hisses, immediately reaching out with his hand to try and stem the trickle of blood making its way down her throat.

She pulls away from his touch though, avoiding eye contact and holding her own fingers to the graze, "It's fine. I just…goodnight Hook."

"Emma, come lass. Tell me what has you on edge."

And purely because it's him and he is yet to disappoint her and she feels like she owes him this much, she stops and answers him, "Everyone seems to know what I'm going to say next when it comes to Neal. Everyone can judge his character and just _know_ him. But he still shocks me with how hurtful he can be." She steps closer to the pirate again, "How is it that I don't even know the man who I've been crying over for eleven years?"

And he realises she's not asking for effect. She wants answers. She craves them. Craves closure, "Oh Emma."

But she holds up a hand, "Don't pity me. I'll work it out."

And with that she turns back towards the camp, throwing another, "Goodnight," over her shoulder.

:::

Emma doesn't sleep that night, the sound of children crying cutting into her like razor blades. Her fingers clutch at Neal's sword, her eyes wide open and searching the dark expanse in front of her for the boy she knows will come and see her tonight.

It's always been a game between the two of them, Pan and her. Spiralling in this sick version of events that he thinks is fun. And tonight she is feeling just about as lost as possible, so she knows he'll be there to seek her out, try and get her to come to his dark side, to forget family and live life in his 'free' little world.

There's a whisper of a breeze in the trees and then he's there, his dark silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky.

She goes to him, softly stepping further away from the campsite until it's just them. King of the Lost Boys and his only Lost Girl.

"Oh I can feel it," he begins, "Can you feel it?"

She shrugs, not wanting to give anything away, even by accident. This is about getting as much information as possible while still making Pan believe he has the upper hand, "Feel what?"

His lips quirk in a devilish smile, "The ache." He doesn't wait for her to answer, instead circling her with confident steps, "The air is thick with the same tension your boy is feeling."

She doesn't even wait for him to finish, "Where's Henry?"

But he seems disappointed by that, "Oh, Emma. You know where he is." She blinks and he appears in front of her, face inches from hers, "He's with me. Just as you can be." He reaches out a slender finger and runs it over the cut on the underside of her chin, "Hmm. You'll find him soon, _saviour_. But it _will _be too late."

And before Emma can get another word in, her head tilts forward and he is gone.

She feels her chest tighten with anxiety. This is all too much; she can't control her feelings out here and the longer she's trying to get herself under control, the longer she has to spend away from Henry.

She knows what Pan wants; he needs her beaten and bruised, her heart heavy and lonely. When she is broken she'll be reunited with her son.

And so, she makes her way back to the cushion of leaves she's made for herself and gets to work, staring at each sleeping face of her companions and mentally cataloguing everything she can't stand about them, building her walls up higher and deeper than they've ever been before, separating herself from everyone and everything.

Pan wants a Lost Girl and a Lost Girl he shall have.

:::

_Please come follow me on Tumblr (getting close to a milestone and there will be fic rewards) and feel free to leave a review because I'm sick and need them to cheer me up. Yes, I'm being that petty ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

_You guys are rocking my socks off, but couldn't help but notice that response is waning a little on this fic. Looking to do only a few more chapters here and I so badly hope you are all still liking it enough to hang around! :)_

..:::..

Feel Again

Four

..:::..

When they all get up the next morning, Killian just assumes that Emma's quiet mood is a result of the night before. He doesn't regret it though, he knows that she's going to need a gentle push here and there to open up to him and he needs to be able to show her that he's not giving up. So to make his point, he sidles up to her as they're packing up camp, holding out a small pouch of berries, "Breakfast, love?"

But no matter how much he's told himself that she will come around and that he just needs to be patient, it still hurts when she shrugs, takes the pouch and turns away from him, wrapping up the last of their supplies.

He frowns but nods, accepting that today is just a hard day and moves to stamp out the fire before they begin what could possibly be their final day of trekking.

:::

"Emma, can I have a hand up here?" Snow calls down to her daughter. She is hanging from the branches of an overgrown willow tree, her fingers trying to braid the long flexible limbs with the rope they'd made from vine only days before.

From where they are seated they can see the Lost Boys' camp, their dirty feet trampling across the muddy ground as they chant in an unknown rhythm around an unlit campfire. It's the first time that they've been this close and Emma knows it's no coincidence that it's happened today.

Pan wants them to find him. For his own sick and sad reasons, he's ready to have them in his camp.

"Sure," she yells back, climbing the knotted tree trunk and crawling along to help her mother gather the rope they're going to use to lower themselves into what they've taken to calling the danger zone.

As Emma and Snow work their fingers around the strong vines, Tink makes her way around to the south of the camp to try and gain access that way. She had not originally wanted to help, but her near death experience and Regina's good will had persuaded the fairy to at least try to distract the king of the Lost Boys, allowing the others to smoothly enter the camp, find Henry and get him out.

It wasn't a plan without flaws, but in their desperation, it was all they had.

Killian stands at the base of the tree, feeding rope through his hand and hook to keep it unknotted, watching mother and daughter braid. He doesn't even notice when Neal approaches him until he's greeting him in hushed tones, "Hey Hook."

The two men haven't really had a chance to speak since they've all been reunited and Killian nearly drops the rope at the sound of the other man's voice, "Baelfire."

Neal sighs, but doesn't correct the pirate, there are bigger things at play here, "You and I both know that getting Henry is only half the problem solved here. How the hell are we getting off this island?"

Hook throws a nervous look over his shoulder, ensuring no one else can hear them. There is no reason to panic anybody when they're so close to their biggest goal, "Your star map."

"Don't give me that. We need pixie dust for it to get us out of here, the ship won't fly without it."

Killian nods, "Aye, and we have a fairy on our side."

Neal scoffs, "Hardly."

The pirate takes a look up at the Emma and Snow weaving the vines and thinks that they'll be okay without him for a moment, so he drops the rope he's holding, curls his hook around Neal's arm and walks with him into the forest a little. Where he can speak a bit more freely.

"Tinker Belle lost her wings because everyone lost their faith in her. Your attitude would do well to change very rapidly if your hopes of getting out of here are still intact."

Neal pulls his arm from the pirate's grasp, "Of course I want out of here. I'm just being realistic."

"Well you need to stop. This whole bloody place is run on imagination; reality is not an option."

Hook makes a move to leave and go back to helping with the rescue mission, but Neal reaches out, stopping him, "This is different. This hope in you."

He doesn't ask a question, but Killian hears it anyway, "She has changed many things within me."

Neal nods, blowing out a deep breath as though he's been holding is for a long time. "Okay," he says as he walks past Hook and out to the clearing again, "Okay."

:::

She knew she should have told them sooner. Knew it with every fibre of her being.

But god, the temptation to have Henry back was too much. It had been driving her every action, her every motion.

So when they had the signal from Tink, and Emma began lowering herself into the camp, she knew it was too easy. That Pan had _wanted_ this to start with. It was like a giant game of chess with that boy and he was going to call checkmate soon.

Emma struggles against her binds, glad that she had been the only one to enter the camp outside of Tink. The rest of the group surely wouldn't have been naïve enough to stick around once they realised she had been taken. It gives her a strange sense of comfort to know that they're out there and free, that they still have a chance of saving Henry while she is there to distract Pan.

Her fingers scratch across the wood of the hollowed out tree she's been imprisoned in, trying to find a sharp edge to cut the ropes binding her wrists, but before she can get too far, she hears the sounds of footsteps coming closer and closer to where she is hidden.

"Emma, you must stop that. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to be so disobedient?" He moves in close to the tree, waving a hand over it, erasing a wall and allowing Emma to see more than just a small circle of the forest. "Too soon?" he teases.

But she isn't even paying attention because across the clearing, over by the now lit campfire, is a boy she recognises. A boy in a red plaid shirt. "Henry," she breathes.

Pan whips his head around and then back to Emma, "Uh uh. You can't have him. He's mine."

Her eyes flash to Pan's, his possessiveness only serving to infuriate her. "No Pan," her voice increases as she speaks, "He's mine!"

Something stirs in the air around them, something crackling and fierce. Emma feels it pulse through her, unbidden and strong, a complete product of her emotion at the time. She can almost visibly see the sound waves travel through the air, and far ahead of them, Henry turns around.

She barely sees his eyes widening, his mouth choking out a strangled, "Mom," before Pan waves his hand again and the wooden wall comes back into place around Emma.

She lets out a startled gasp at that burst of magic as she listens to Pan yelling at his Lost Boys about getting Henry far away from here. But suddenly the chase doesn't scare her, because she can see how this is going to end.

Concentrating the remaining tingles of energy running through her, she forces her binds undone and presses her face up to the hole in the tree where she can see out.

It all makes sense to her so suddenly. What Pan wants her, why he needs Henry.

He is a boy obsessed with power and to hold the heart of the truest believer and the heart of the truest love in his hands would be earth shattering for his power.

As the pieces continue to fall into place for her, she looks out over the camp, making sure the Lost Boys haven't taken Henry away yet. She's just beginning to devise a plan for escape when she notices a shadowy figure entering the camp. _Hook_.

She can barely make out what they're speaking of, something of a deal, it seems. Her life for his. And she wants to cry out to him that this is the worst idea he's ever had, but just as she goes to yell, Pan turns his back for a moment and in that moment Hook's face meets hers and he flashes her a secret smile and a quick wink.

Something to let her know that Pan will not win. He will not take them down.

And she can _tell_. She doesn't know how, but she can tell that the pirate is not just promising her Henry.

For the first time that day, she allows herself to feel an emotion other than loneliness. She relishes in it when her heart skips a beat.

:::


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey my loves, here is the second last chapter of this little guy. I want to thank you all for your feedback! Sorry this chapter took a little longer to get up, I've been away this past week. Final chapter will be up soon :)_

..:::..

Feel Again

Five

..:::..

_She still can't put it all together. Her heart is racing, her breath caught somewhere in her throat and it just makes no sense that they got out of there. She rests her hands on her knees, hunching over to try and recover before she faces the impossibility that is in front of her. Despite the dire circumstances they've just run from and despite finally having her son back with her, she can't help but feel a pleasant rush of heat spark between her legs when she raises her eyes and sees two Killian's looking back at her._

:::

Hook continues to make his deal with Pan as Emma watches on from her tree prison. She knows now that he wants her to escape somehow, but she really just isn't sure how she's supposed to sneak right past them. There's a knock to her right against the wooden barrier and her eyes dart to the wall, "Hello?"

The lyrical voice of Tinker Belle answers her, "Emma. We have to escape."

To her surprise the fairy actually sounds scared, "Hook is helping. It'll be okay."

She doesn't really know where this blind faith in the pirate has come from, but she just knows he'd never do anything without putting her best interests first. The thought warms her, makes her heart feel that _thing _she keeps feeling wherever Hook seems to be involved.

"Oh Emma, that is precisely the reason we need to get out."

She frowns, not understanding Tink's concern for Hook, but feeling a twinge of jealousy at something she obviously isn't recognising, "If they go away I can get us out."

As though listening, the pirate holds out a hand, pointing a little way down the track at where they know Henry is. Pan follows, throwing a glance at the tree prison, but not seeming to suspect anything.

"How can you do that?" Tink asks.

Emma takes a deep breath, conjuring a warmth through her body. "Magic," she whispers.

She closes her eyes, finding her focus. Henry. Happy and at home. In their home. Storybrooke. She sees his smile, sees his feet running along the ground in front of her, chasing down the next lead in their latest operation. She sees happiness and feels the warmth within her grow, tingling out through her fingertips, through her toes.

A gasp escapes her as the image in her mind shifts though, changing from something innocent and happy, to something passionate and intense. In her mind's eye, she rolls her hips into Hook's, moaning his name and sighing against his lips. She wants more, wants to feel his skin on her skin, wants to cry out and let go, but they're hiding from the rest of the camp and they have to part. She feels the spark in her chest at the separation, feels it move through her entire body.

And when she opens her eyes, the walls once surrounding herself and the fairy are gone. Dissolved into thin air.

Emma breathes out, stepping into the Neverland jungle. There is too much at stake to allow her focus to shift to the things she obviously wants to do with the pirate. Right now she only needs to get her son back.

:::

Hook rests his head between his knees, breathing in agonising breaths, "Tell me again, _Crocodile_, why it couldn't be your already detached shadow that does this particular chore?"

Rumplestiltskin looks down at the pirate with little sympathy. He hadn't been asking for the rest of the group to find him when they had all stumbled upon each other, trying to decide the best way to go about rescuing Emma and Tinker Belle. It just so happened that he had the perfect plan, "Because my shadow is otherwise occupied," he says bitterly, thinking of the importance of his dagger and hoping it hasn't fallen into the wrong hands.

"How are you not in pain?" Hook asks, clutching at his chest and trying to focus his line of vision. He can see Snow and David huddling close to each other, watching him with fear in his eyes and see the silhouettes of the others around their makeshift campsite, but the edges are blurry and the amount of effort it takes to focus nearly takes his breath away.

The Dark One rolls his eyes, "Blackened heart, dearie."

That little piece of information almost has a numbing effect on the pain for just a moment. Blinding hurt is replaced by a spark of hope for a second as the implications set in. He's changing, he's no longer the villain the world has seen him as, he's becoming the hero he needs to be to save Emma.

As the pain ignites in him again, he rests his head back down and closes his eyes, hoping the shadow version of himself is doing his job and distracting Pan enough to allow Emma to get out of there with her son.

:::

The fairy takes the lead, navigating her way around the dark side of the camp, looking for a way to come at Pan without him realising they are stealing his most prized possession. Emma follows behind, wishing her feet fell as quietly as Tink's on the jungle floor, "What are we going to do when we get to Henry? We can't just go in without a plan."

Hook and Pan become visible up ahead, and to their left, a silent Henry looks between them, concern written across his features.

"I think in this case, Emma, we may have to."

Her eyes widen, fear running through her. This is it. This is the chance they've been looking for. She unsheathes Neal's cutlass, the metallic sound causing Pan to look around.

And then it all happens too fast.

They're on her in a second, the Lost Boys and their weapons. She swings the cutlass through the air, fending them off with strong strikes. She knows she has no chance if this comes down to accuracy, but by sheer force, she can beat them.

She vaguely notices Hook and Pan duelling to the right of her, their swords clashing again and again. And she's dimly aware that they seem to be moving further away from Henry, Hook's long strides guiding them into the surrounding jungle.

If she could just get a clean shot in at each of the Lost Boys attacking her, she could grab Henry and run. She can see him now, crouched down behind a log, a sword in hand, ready to fight, but also scared. So, so scared.

And then just as sure as she can see him, in the next moment his is gone and Tink is yelling her name, "Emma! Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

"Where's Henry? We can't!" She shields her head from a swinging sword, a cry escaping her. She knows she can't do this much longer.

"I've got him. Go!"

But Emma can't see him. This is a trick. Pan's shadow taking the form of the fairy.

She growls as a new wave of anger washes over her, she needs to get her son back. That's it. Why can't she be allowed that? Why can't she see Henry?

"Emma, stop thinking like that." It's Hook who speaks this time. How could he know what she was thinking? "You need to believe in Tink."

Her eyes meet his through the fight and she sees only sincerity and concern.

"_Look,_" he nods his head upwards and she finally catches sight of her son suspended in a green cloud of pixie dust. And when she looks back at Tink, she sees her in a whole different light.

She can see a fairy.

"Tink?"

She smiles back, "Emma, run!"

And she does, breaking through the Lost Boys with ease now that the belief that her son will be okay is running rampant within her. She runs past the fairy who taps her shoulder and sends her hurtling into the air with Henry. "Mom!" he exclaims, reaching out to hold her hand.

She wants to hug him, to never let him go, but they still need to run, she knows they're not safe yet. Tinker Belle joins them above the treetops, propelling them forward and back towards the rest of their group. But Emma halts for a moment, "Where's Hook?"

She notices Tink's face fall and feels them drop a few inches in the air, "Emma, he's…"

Her eyes widen in fear, "No."

She shakes her head, "He's alive. But that wasn't him down there. That was his shadow."

Emma frowns, "How is that possible. Wouldn't that kill him?"

It's crazy; she has Henry back, but all she wants to do is fly back down into that camp and save the pirate too. Tinker Belle grabs her hand, "He'll be right along. Come now."

There's a mixture of emotions in the fairy's voice and Emma doesn't know what to believe. She can feel their altitude falling slowly and knows that she has to find hope somewhere within her if they have any hope of getting out of there alive. "Okay," she whispers, hoping with all her heart that Killian is behind them.

Shadow or not, she's beginning to see that her life can't be complete without him.

:::

She stares up at the two men in front of her, perfectly identical, and her heart leaps. Later she'll blame it on the adrenaline rush, but for now she's more than content to jump into Killian's arms, hugging him close to her. "Thank you," she whispers, her lips close to his ear sending tingles through his still aching body.

He clutches at her hands as she pulls back, "There was no other choice." He runs a hand smoothly up her arm, to her neck, brushing his thumb over the barely there bruise he had inflicted upon her only days ago. And she knows what he's saying with that gesture, she knows what he's implying.

And suddenly she can't wait to get back to the ship, to be away from all these people around them.

Neal clears his throat behind her, holding out the star map as Tinker Belle uses her newly re-found magic to light it up. They watch as it illuminates the sky, lighting a path home. Henry huddles into her side, making her smile as she swings an arm around his shoulders.

Hook's fingers grasp hers, his doppelganger fading back into his shadowy form and leading the way towards the Jolly Roger.

As they step after it, each of them turns back to the island one last time. This is a place where time stands still, and they are ready now to move forward.

:::


	6. Chapter 6

_Lucky last chapter guys. Thank you for reading and sticking around, I really hope you enjoy it :) Aiming for 100 reviews (because I'm weird and like the evenness of it) so if any of you want to make that happen, I'll throw in a hug and some cookies :)_

_Until the next time…_

..:::..

Feel Again

Six

..:::..

She knows if she were here with anyone other than the pirate, she'd feel like she was wasting a once in a lifetime view, but somehow, the fact that they are currently flying through the stars on a ship pales in comparison to sitting in the safety of the Captain's Quarters with Killian Jones. And she's not sure what to do with that revelation.

"Can you do it?" he asks, his breathing still quite laboured, his arm wrapped across his sore body, protecting his still damaged ribs and adding some support to his torso.

She picks up the needle and thread and looks at the place where his shadow and his body are positioned, "I think so." She's never really thought about it, but in the stories she wonders if Wendy Darling felt this level of apprehension when Peter Pan asked her to sew his shadow back on.

She shakes her head, no. The stories were different from their reality and Pan's shadow still roamed free, so it may well never have happened.

It feels oddly domestic, sitting on the floor of his cabin, his leg draped over hers. She threads the needle and brings her hand towards the shadow first, unsure exactly how this is supposed to work.

"Trust yourself, lass," his voice practically rumbles through the space between them and she feels her skin prickle with goose bumps at the smoothness of it.

His confidence spurs her on, as it so often does and she gently pokes the needle into the shadow, meeting little resistance, but also causing a jab of pain to rush through Hook. He hisses, trying to keep his mouth shut, trying not to show Emma how much pain is coursing through him. "I'm sorry," Emma whispers, "Am I doing it wrong?"

He shakes his head and bites back another groan, "If it didn't hurt you'd be doing it wrong."

Her brow pinches together in concentration, holding his bare foot with her hand, "Let me try something new then."

He watches in wonder as a soft golden glow stretches from her fingertips and along the curl of the thread, "What is that?"

"Protection spell," she answers, her breath coming out in a pant, as though a lot of energy has been drawn from her, "I don't know if it'll work, but it's got to help."

She continues to run the needle through his foot and then loop it back around through the shadow again and again, each movement becoming shakier as the toll of the spell begins to wear on her. "Emma," he warns. But she only shakes her head at him.

"I'm fine."

Her hands pull his other foot onto her lap and begin the process again, all the while, a concerned Killian Jones watches the princess and tries not to squirm or make the whole thing any harder for her than it already is.

He feels guilty for stealing her away from her son as soon as they'd gotten the ship on course. He had been in a wealth of pain, but seeing Emma reunited with her family sent pangs of warmth and comfort through him. He could have made it til morning and allowed her the night with everyone as they'd sailed through the stars, but she caught sight of him hunching over a railing by the helm and knew he needed immediate attention.

He curses his weakness.

Because he knows that there is a very real chance he is just getting his hopes up, that this is all just out of the kindness of her heart and not for the romantic reasons he's hoping for.

Her fingers still on his ankle and he returns to this moment, her eyes looking at him with unspoken questions burning behind her irises. She opens her mouth a few times, trying to find words, but in the end she settles for a simple smile, before releasing him from her spell and gently pushing his feet off her legs.

"Thank you, love."

She nods, standing up, "Least I could do."

He follows her lead, standing, and then reaching out to wrap his hooked arm behind her and pull her into him. His hand cups her face, thumb running along her cheek, causing Emma's eyes to flutter shut at the gentleness of his touch.

He's close, she can feel him, feel his breath warm her lips, feel the intangible safety that knots around them, feel the way her heart races.

And then he kisses her. _Finally._

It's sweet and chaste. A promise. But it's enough for now. Their lips duel quietly for just a moment before they both pull back and smile softly.

"You should rest," she says quietly, her forehead resting against his, "You must be exhausted."

And as she mentions it, he feels fatigue hit him, his eyelids feeling heavy, his thought finally quietening to give way to peace, "Stay with me."

She shakes her head, "We won't sleep. And you need to."

He doesn't know whether she wanted to reveal so much, but he takes the win and kisses her forehead before turning from her and making his way to his bed, his shadow trailing right behind him.

:::

She returns to the upper deck to find mostly everyone has retired to their respective beds. However, Neal is at the helm, a sleeping Henry next to him.

She walks on her toes as she approaches, careful not to wake him, but Neal assures her that he is well and truly out for the count, sleeping peacefully for the first time since leaving Storybrooke.

"So this is the path you took home last time?"

He nods, "Yeah. Pretty spectacular, isn't it?"

She looks out over the ocean of stars, her fingers itching to reach out and touch the sky but knowing that such a thing is impossible. The night stretches on for miles in front of them, the bright points of light glowing in an unfamiliar sequence to guide them.

"It is beautiful."

When she tears her eyes away from the sky, she finds him watching her, longing in his gaze, "Emma, I know we…"

"Neal," she warns.

"No Emma, I need to say this. We had a good thing and I lost it, I know that and I would never expect your forgiveness for that, but I'm not that person anymore. I've changed, I've grown."

And she knows he has. She knows that he means it when he's there for her, when he says he'll fight for her. But there's something else nagging in the back of her mind, someone else.

"I believe you, and to some degree I even forgive you. But Neal, you're not the same, just as I'm not the same. We're different to who we were when we were kids. The life we had…we can't have that again. And where does that leave us? Falling apart for completely other reasons."

He nods, though she can see it in his eyes that he's having trouble completely accepting what she's saying, "I meant it when I told you I loved you."

And again, she knows, "I did too. But…" she catches herself before she reveals too much. He's already put it together though.

"But you are also falling for another man."

Her head bows in a nod but she refuses to talk about it any further, instead taking a seat next to Henry, her hand reaching out to hold his. Watching the back of Neal she realises she's finally starting to see a point where she can let go of the man and she's also seeing that she doesn't need his approval. She reaches behind her and pulls up on the strap holding Neal's cutlass in place. She carefully puts it down next to Henry, giving it to him, from father to son. Upon unloading that particular burden, her eyes again focus on the stars ahead of them as Neal steers them home.

:::

She tucks Henry into his bed not too long later, kissing his forehead and heading for the warmth of her own bed, when something in her memory snags her.

Hook's gentle voice asking her to stay with him actually sounds rather tempting.

Before she can overthink it, she opens the door to the cabin and quietly sneaks out, navigating the now familiar ship to the Captain's Quarters. Nerve almost get the better of her, but she steels herself and opens the door with a deep breath.

She almost expects him to have defied her, to be wandering around his room waiting for her. She almost wants him to be awake, but he is definitely asleep, his face appearing younger by years in his slumber, his head rested against luscious pillows and his arms spread out either side of him. She gasps as she realises his vest and shirt have been removed, as has the brace which usually holds his infamous hook, and she feels a new urge coil up inside of her to pull down the sheet covering him to see exactly what she's working with here.

The thought brings a smile to her lips and she steps into his cabin, pulling off her boots. She glances down at her wrist for a moment too, sparing a thought for the man who first got her to open up after so many years of remaining closed off. The shoelace on her skin feels like it's part of her, but she knows if she wants to move on, she also needs to let go. She pulls gently on the knot and unwraps the lace, placing it inside her boot, not ready to let it go completely, but at least for now, willing to give it a rest. For the sake of decency, that's all she removes, but as she climbs into his bed, she wonders whether she is being too decent.

His naked body presses against her as he rolls into her, his arm slinging across her waist, "You came back," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with sleep. She thinks it could be one of the sexiest sounds she's ever heard.

"Just to sleep, Killian."

A smile crosses his face, "If you say so, love."

His eyes are still closed and she decides one little surprise won't hurt, so she presses her lips briefly against his, but before she can pull back he's rolled her onto her back, pinned her arms and is thoroughly delving into her mouth with his tongue.

She instinctively rolls her hips up into him and is surprised to find him already aroused. His lips leave hers as she moans out her pleasure, instead finding her jawline and her neck.

"More," she whispers, suddenly throwing decency out the window and pulling her own top from her skin. She decides in that moment there are more important things to be concerned about.

And as his fingers run across her body, setting it alight with passion, all she wants to do is _feel_.

:::


End file.
